The Cold Days of Summer - Episode 3

Drew watches his little sister Elizabeth play in worlds he cannot see and Drew lays the first brick of a wall that separates him from his Dad.

Last week in Episode 2 of The Cold Days of Summer Drew learns that he doesn't see the world in the same way as others.

A note from the author: A longer episode than the previous 2 due to Chapter 6 - the longest chapter so far. I tend to write short chapters with each chapter covering a single scene, but not so with chapter 6. Also, you may have noticed the part 1 concept. This of this as blunt foreshadowing - there will be a part 2, maybe even a part 3 where the chapter title continues the theme of the part 1 chapter.

Feel free to comment. I am interested in what you are feeling and thinking as you read along. Do you want to see longer episodes? Do you want to see more than one episode a week? All comments and ideas are welcome.

Sometimes I just watch, part 1

At heart, I’m an introvert, always have been, probably always will be. Put me in a crowd and I get pretty quiet. Instead of talking, I watch, I observe and sometimes I actually learn.

All this observing and watching started when I was young, with my sister Elizabeth. To be honest, my first thoughts of her was that she was undoubtedly some kind of space alien, because nothing about her made sense. Perhaps I was already too addicted to “Weird Theater,” the horror movie show that played on KOSA, channel 11 late Friday nights.

It might have been in those early years I started having a hard time separating what was real from what wasn’t. But, hell, who can really say what is real and what isn’t? If you’re honest, down to the core and soul of your being the best you can say is “I think this is real.” Everyone sees things differently, they might not see what they want to see, but they sure as hell see it differently than the next guy.

Early on I spent a great deal of time watching Elizabeth, determined I would be able to expose her for the space alien she was. Let me go ahead and kill the suspense, Elizabeth is no space alien. As the years passed I realized she was more human than I was. Nevertheless, I watched her, I observed her and before long I began to love her as I watched her play, totally immersed in her make believe worlds. Elizabeth’s imagination was incredible, she saw things I did not, could not, may never see. And she saw joy in all things, she saw joy. I envied her for that because it seems from since I was young, I rarely saw joy, I saw the hard edge of the world. I wasn’t jealous of her joy, I took pleasure from her pleasure. After a shitty day, and, yes, shitty days started at a young age for me, I would come home and watch her play. I would watch her play and I would forget the day. I would see hope and joy and love and that would be enough to gird myself for another day.

Then, sometimes I would just watch, that’s how the day would start for me, I would just watch. Saturday’s would be like that. I would wake up, grab a biscuit or a bowl of cereal and instead of watching the Saturday morning cartoons or running outside to play, I would watch Elizabeth play. Sometimes she would ask me to join her in her make believe world, but I never could quite see the things she saw. She would get exasperated with me when I sat down on one of her invisible friends or when I would pour too much air tea and soon I would be shushed away from her world and I would go back to watching, which was all right with me because that’s all I wanted to do in the first place.

Building a wall, brick by brick

Over the years my Dad and I built a strong brick wall between us, brick by brick. I laid the first bricks when I was seven.

It was the summer after the first grade. I had spent one year at Ross Elementary and the legend of Werd had grown. Out in the school yard that was my name. I was no longer Drew, I was Werd.

School had ended, Mrs. Chalton had deemed me ready for the second grade and had even hinted to my Mom that I was gifted child, though a little stubborn. The summer started in a good way, clear skies, hot days and cool nights, and very little of it did I spend inside.

The first week of July Dad walked in the house, said he was tired of renting and had found a house for us to buy on the south side of town. My Mom thought he was kidding at first, so did I, but I could tell by the look in his eye as Mom made fun of him that he was serious. He threw a bunch of papers on the coffee table and looked us both hard in the eye as he said “Damn it. Does that look like I’m joking?” Mom picked up the papers, turned out it was the loan paperwork, read it page by page, all the while looking at my Dad every few seconds. When she was finished reading she gave him a big hug and a kiss, walked over to Elizabeth and picked her up in the air. Dad looked at me and said “You get first dibs on what bedroom you want.”

We drove that night to the house at 1512 11^th street. Out in front of the house was a Rochester and Murphy real estate sign with a slapped on SOLD across the sign. There was plenty of daylight; it wouldn’t be dark until way past nine that night. We parked in front, and walked around the house. Dad told us all about it. It had three bedrooms, two baths, a one-car garage, a nice kitchen with a breakfast nook and a living room, and it would be ours in a couple of weeks. The backyard was nice, a good fence, good grass, it was nice. We walked around and he talked, talked more than usual, he was full of words, proud of our new home. Eventually we all filled with pride and slowly walked back to the car.

Two weeks later, we moved out of the rent house on Locust and into the new (to us) house on 11^th street. Mom met most of the women in the neighborhood, Dad met the men and I discovered that I was just the wrong age. I was seven, the only seven year old on the block. There were a bunch of ten year olds and they weren’t too interested in a seven year old, other than teasing or beating me up. There was another bunch of four and five year olds and I wasn’t too interested in them.

As a result, the rest of the summer was a little lonely for me. Every once in awhile the ten years olds let me join up with them when they needed an extra for a game of baseball or when they just felt sorry for me. The best thing was that no one here knew of Werd, I was Drew once again. Most of the time I was on my own, in our backyard or in the alley seeing what I could find. I spent a lot of time walking or riding my bike around town on my own.

Towards the middle of August, I was in the alley, just killing time, when I heard a little whimper. I looked around and found near a trash can a little pup trying to dig through the garbage to find something to eat. I tried to walk up to it, but before I got too close it ran away. He was weaned and he was looking hungry. The rest of the afternoon, we sat across the alley from each other. I kept my eye on him and he kept his eyes on me. Finally it was time for dinner so I walked home.

Until I fell asleep I wondered where the pup came from, where he would sleep that night and if he had a home. Next morning I was up early, had breakfast and ran into the alley. He was still there, still routing through garbage, not having much luck, looking a little hungrier than the day before. I ran back to our house, went into my room, opened the top drawer of my chest, reached to the very back and pulled out the sock I kept my savings in. I emptied on my bed and counted out two dollars in change. I put the change in my pocket, walked through the house and told my Mom I was going to ride my bike for a while. She told me to be safe and in couple of minutes I was riding toward the Walgreen’s at 8^th and Dixie. It didn’t take long to get there; it was only a few blocks away. Once in the Walgreen’s I walked quickly toward the pet section and found a small bag of puppy food for a dollar. I paid for the food and rode back home, but I didn’t go straight home. Instead I rode into the alley behind our house, past our house to where I had last seen the pup. I didn’t see him, but I went ahead and opened the bag of puppy food and poured out about a cupful on the ground near where I had last seen him. I then walked across the alley and sat down on the ground, about ten feet away from the food.

I sat quietly, hardly moving. After a few minutes I saw a little nose stick out from behind a cardboard box. I watched as the nose sniffed in the direction of the food and as the pup cautiously walked out toward the food I had left for him. I didn’t move, I hardly breathed. He sniffed the food closely, then looked over at me, sniffed again and took a bite. He looked at me again, and then took another bite. Hunger won out over fear, because in a few minutes all the food was gone.

A cup of puppy food in a little pup is a funny thing. His belly was full and round. He sat there looking real satisfied, but still cautious, still eying me over as I eyed him. He was all black, save for a white spot that looked like a star on his forehead. That’s it, his name was Star. For the next thirty minutes or so, we looked at each other until he grew tired of that game, lay down on the ground and fell asleep. It looked to be a satisfying sleep. After a couple of minutes I got up and walked over to him. I reached down and picked him up.

He didn’t like that. He woke with a start, twisting and turning in my hands. With one last turn and lurch he sank his teeth into my hand. Those teeth were sharp, like little needles. It hurt, it did hurt and for a second I could feel my temper rise. But right before I lost it I realized he was scared and you can’t be mad at something or someone who’s scared and trying to protect himself.

I put him down on the ground, let go of him as he let go of me. I pulled my hand away from him, and sucked a little blood from the bite as he ran back to his box and to safety. It was time for lunch, so I picked up my bag of food, got on my bike and rode back to my house. I dropped the bag of food just outside the garage and walked into the house.

Once I was home I went to the bathroom and washed up. I didn’t want my Mom to notice my hand where the pup had bitten me. I washed the dirt and blood off my hand, then let the cold water run over my hand and the bite. Once I was sure the wound was clean and would bleed no more I dried off, carefully making sure that the only evidence I left on the towel was dirt.

I walked into the kitchen, said hello to my Mom and Elizabeth, and sat down at the kitchen table. I ate two tuna fish sandwiches, a couple of fistfuls of potato sticks and drank two glasses of iced tea. Elizabeth ate about half of a sandwich, complained about the sweet pickles chips in the tuna fish and generally was a three-year-old nuisance. Mom ate quietly, reaching over to Elizabeth between bites to wipe her face.

Mom asked me what I had planned for the afternoon. I began to say “Nothing,” but wondered if I was about to walk into a trap. If I said nothing, there was a good chance she would come up with something to fill my afternoon. I wasn’t ready to tell my Mom about the pup so I had to say something else. It wasn’t really a lie; it just wasn’t the complete truth. Instead of “Nothing,” I said, “I’ve set up some of my toy soldiers in the alley and I’m going to play with them some more this afternoon.” My Mom looked at me in the way she often did, measuring and assessing my words against some unknown scale. This time my words passed and she said, “All right, but don’t get too hot while you’re out there.”

Sometimes lying dug into me, sometimes it didn’t. This time it didn’t. I had plans and goals I was not yet ready to let her know about.

I walked into the garage, climbed onto my bike, and as I rode out, leaned over and picked up the bag of puppy food. I rode down to the end of the street, turned the corner, and rode into our alley.

The pup was sitting on his haunches. He looked at me, looked at the bag of food, then at me again. I walked over slowly to him, taking very slow deliberate steps. He watched me each step of the way, ready to dart if I made the wrong move or moved too fast. When I was about three feet away from him, I kneeled down and poured out a handful of food on to the ground. I continued to kneel there for a minute, but he didn’t budge. I stood slowly back and walked across the alley back to my spot.

And there we sat, watching each other long enough for the August sun to cause me to sweat. The pup just sat there, he didn’t seem hungry. He just sat there, his little fat belly touching the ground. Maybe we were playing a game, a game to see who would break first, but I was good at that kind of game, I was patient, I had all the time in the world. I felt the sweat drip down my neck, and down my shirt. I was hot, I was thirsty. I wetted my lips and then I figured it out. I was hot and thirsty, and so was the pup. I stood up slowly, gathered my thoughts as to what to do next. I walked over to my bike, climbed on it, and rode away. As I did I said “Don’t worry, Star, I’ll be back in a few minutes with some water for you.”

I rode down the alley, around the corner, back up 11^th street and to our house. The garage was still open. In the garage, I found an old cereal bowl. I crept into the backyard trying to see where my Mom and Elizabeth were. The shades were drawn across the living room window that looked out on the back yard. One of the kitchen windows also looked out on the back yard, and depending on what Mom was doing right now, that kitchen window would be the one I would have to be careful about sneaking past. Mom should be done with the lunch dishes, and hopefully by now would be somewhere else in the house.

I moved far enough into the back yard so I could see the kitchen window, but not so far that it would be easy for someone in the kitchen to see me. I couldn’t see anyone in the kitchen. I moved along the house, just under the kitchen window and listened. I couldn’t hear anything, that was a good sign. This was my chance. On this side of the house we had a spigot for watering the yard. I turned it on slowly, to ease the pressure and to make as little sound as possible. I had a steady, small stream running into the bowl, filling it up slowly. It took a couple of minutes to fill the bowl up. I turned the water off and lifted the bowl. Now I had to walk across the yard, out through the back gate and into the alley, but my speed would be limited as I would be carrying the bowl of water and I wanted to spill as little as possible. I decided it would be easier to open the gate first so I ran across the back yard to the gate and I opened it a couple of inches, enough room to swing the gate open with my foot or my shoulder. I then ran back and steeled myself for the slow walk across the yard and to the alley.

I picked up the bowl of water. It was heavier than I expected. It took a couple of seconds for the water to quit sloshing. I walked slowly. It seemed to take forever, but I reached the back gate. I slowly pushed the gate open wide enough for me to walk through with the bowl. I stepped through into the alley and started walking down the alley to where I had left the pup.

Two houses down, he was still there, not looking so good. He was panting, his head seemed heavy, and he was barely holding it off the ground. I walked slowly toward him. He watched me through slit eyes. He might have been scared, but I think he was too tired to run anymore. I placed the bowl of water on the ground before him. He looked at me as I knelt there. He looked at the bowl and cocked his head as if he were trying to figure things out. I reached into the water, cupped my hand, then tossed the water at his feet. The pup leaned over and licked up a couple of drops.

I hoped he had figured it out, so I stood up and walked away to the other side of the alley. Once there I knelt down again and watched him. I watched him do nothing, just sit there, like he was lost, almost swaying back and forth. I watched him, hoping he would take a step towards the bowl and drink from it, but he did not. He just sat there, so close to the water.

I didn’t know what to do. After a few minutes I stood up and walked slowly across the alley back to the bowl. The pup looked down right pitiful. I stepped between the bowl and him and slowly knelt down. I then sat down on the ground, Indian style, with the pup on one side and the bowl of water on the other. I talked softly and quietly.

“Hello, Star. Did you know that’s your name? It’s because of that big white star on your forehead. My name is Drew. Looks like you’re new to this part of town. So am I. Hot today isn’t it? Bet you would like a little water. I’ve got some water right here, and I’m going to cup a little water in my hand, then see if you’ll drink it. What do you say, boy? What do you say?

Star didn’t say anything, but he did seem to be listening to me. He watched me as I turned slightly away from him and towards the bowl of water. I cupped my hand, filled it with water, and turned slowly back to Star. I lowered my hand down to Star and slowly placed my hand right next to his mouth. He sniffed my hand and looked up to me. I turned my hand slowly down to him, letting the water move to the edge of my hand nearest his mouth. Star opened his mouth and began to lap the water, slowly at first, then more eagerly. It wasn’t long before he had drunk all the water.

I decided to try it again. Star knew what was coming and greedily lapped the water from my hand without any prompting. By this point he was sitting up. I gave him a little scritch under his chin and he seemed to like it. He didn’t seem scared at all. He walked around twice in a circle, then ran over to the cardboard box I first found him under. He sniffed the ground, then yawned. He looked at me, like he was still trying to size me up, then lay down on his cardboard, facing me. His eyes grew heavy, he closed them once or twice, opening them back up to see where I was, then fell fast asleep.

I watched him sleep. The sun was beating down on me and I realized I was thirsty too. I cupped my hand and dipped it into the water and had a cool drink. Star was sound asleep, content to the world. After a few minutes he turned on his side and started to dream. He began to run in his sleep and he made small sounds, little murmurs.

He slept for a long while and the whole time I sat there watching him. He breathed easily, he dreamed and the afternoon passed. I was getting tired myself out there in the alley, just watching the pup when he began to wake up. He was still lying on his side as he stretched and arched his back. Then one eye opened and saw me. He rolled off his side and he was now laying on his paws, with his back legs splayed out behind him. He lifted his head and watched me.

I began to talk to him softly. “Hello, Star. How you doing, boy? You had a nice nap. Bet you’re feeling better now.”

He cocked his head at me, angling his ears as if to hear me better. I made a soft clucking sound, something I had seen my Dad do when he would want a dog to come to him.

“Come here, Star. Everything’s okay. I won’t hurt you. There’s plenty of water and food, so why don’t you come here, boy?”

Star was watching me closely; again I could feel him sizing me up. At some point, he must have come to a decision because he stood up and as he did, he swished his tale at me and barked at me in a playful voice. I wasn’t sure what he wanted but he barked again, then splayed his front legs to the ground. He barked at me and wagged his tail. I had seen young pups do this before. It was like an invitation to play. I got on my hands and knees and walked like a dog over to him. His tale was wagging fast and he began to bounce around all the while barking at me. He charged me then backed away quick and ran away barking at me as he did. Then he stopped, looked over his shoulder and turned around to face me. He lowered his head, gave a playful growl, and charged me again. This time we butted heads, and then I rolled him over and rubbed his belly. He jumped up, swished his tail, barked and danced in front of me, jumping from side to side as I reached out with my left hand and gently pushed him around. His teeth were sharp, like little needles, but it didn’t hurt. He was playing hard, having a ball and so was I.

I don’t how long we played, but we had a great time. Somewhere in the back of my head, I began to hear someone calling for me. I don’t how long it took before I realized the voice wasn’t inside of my head but was actually in the real world.

“Drew, where are you? It’s your turn to set the table. You need to come home now.”

It was my Mom calling me. It must be getting close to dinnertime and she was right, it was my turn to set the dinner table and before I could do that, I needed to clean up. I jumped to my feet and grabbed the bag of food.

I turned back to Star, told him I had to go home but that I would see him again. I started walking towards the alley gate of our back yard. I had walked about fifteen feet when Star barked at me. First, it was his playful bark, calling me back to play, then when he realized I was not going to play anymore, his bark changed to something sad and frightened.

“Got to go, boy, but I’ll be back tomorrow, get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning.”

That did not satisfy him and before I had taken another step, he ran after me. As I stepped forward, he nipped at my heels. I took a step and he nipped again, he didn’t want me to go.

“Drew, you better get here fast! I’m getting tired of waiting.”

The words sounded mad, but my Mom wasn’t mad yet. I had a few minutes more before she would really get tired of waiting for me, but I didn’t like testing her too much.

Two more steps toward the alley gate and by now, Star was in front of me, barking at every step. By now, his bark sounded desperate. I was torn, I needed to get back home, but I didn’t want to leave Star by himself. I didn't know the answer was working itself out all the while.

I had reached the alley gate and I opened it slowly. As soon as the gate opened, Star stopped following. I’m not sure if the sound or the sight of the gate opening scared him, but something did. He sat on his haunches and stared at me and at the gate. I walked through the gate and closed it behind me. Star sat in the alley way and let out the most soulful whine I had ever heard. I stood there by the closed gate and felt my heart breaking as he whined.

I’m not that strong, not then, not now. I can’t stand the sad whine of an animal. I opened the gate and poked my head through. There was Star, still sitting on the ground, looking as sad as I thought a dog could.

“Star, come on, boy. Come on in, follow me.”

Star just looked at me and at the monster he thought the gate was. He didn’t move an inch.

“Come on, Star, I don’t have all night. Come on in.”

Star didn’t move.

I moved out of the gate and into the back yard, leaving the gate open. I couldn’t see Star and I’m guessing he couldn’t see me either.

“Star, come here, boy. Come here.”

I knelt to the ground and clucked my tongue, doing more than a fair imitation of my Dad.

“Come on, Star.”

A small head poked its head into the back yard. Star looked in, saw me, and ran through the gate, as if he were afraid the gate monster would take a bite out of him. He ran to me and leaped up into my arms. After a shower of licks, I stood up, holding him in my arms and walked over and closed the gate. Looks like I had a dog.

With Star in one arm and his bag of food in the other, I walked across the yard. Ahead of me, peering through the living room window, her nose pressed up against the pane, was Elizabeth. I was caught. The back door flew open as she ran out into the back yard.

“Puppy!” Elizabeth screeched.

“Where did you get him? What’s his name? Can I name him? Can I hold him?” The questions flowed out of Elizabeth faster than I could answer. And then, it all came down. My Mom, wondering what had happened to Elizabeth and noticing the wide-open back door, stood in the doorway.

“Drew! What have you got there? A dog? Drew, put that dog down! Where did he come from?”

I realized where Elizabeth’s talent of talking faster than what seemed humanly possible came from.

“Mom, I found him in the alley, he was starving so I fed him. After I fed him, he followed me into the back yard. He’s all alone, Mom, he’s just a little stray pup. He needs someone to take care of him.”

“And, I guess you’re thinking you could be that someone?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I knew when I should be polite as possible.

By now, Elizabeth was playing with Star. He was chasing her, she was chasing him. He seemed to have gotten over his initial shyness and was now a playful pup making up for lost time.

“Drew, you should have talked to me first, before Elizabeth saw him. It is a him, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am, his name is Star, for the little white star on his forehead.”

Mom was rarely the hard one. She looked at Star, at Elizabeth and at me as she spoke.

“Drew, make sure the gate is closed so he can’t get out while we get ready for dinner. When your Dad gets home, you can talk to him about Star. But, now, I want you both inside.

I walked into the house, knowing that I had at least bought a little time. Elizabeth was more reluctant but after some strong encouragement from Mom, she came into the house. Star wasn’t sure what to do at first, he started to follow Elizabeth, but Mom said to him firmly “No, you stay outside for now” as she closed the door.

I was worried that Star would start whining but he didn’t. After a minute or so, I snuck a peek through the living room window. He was walking around the back yard, exploring his new territory and didn’t seem to mind at all that we had gone inside. I guess the back yard was new to him and his curiosity was greater than his fear of being alone.

Around 6:00 pm, Dad drove up and walked into the house. Before I had a chance to say anything Elizabeth spilled the beans.

“Drew got us a puppy. Daddy, he’s so cute, you’ll love him. Let me show him to you.” She grabbed Dad’s hand and pulled him into the living room and out the back door. All I could do at this point was follow them out into the back yard.

Star didn’t notice us at first. He was intently studying something in a corner of the yard. With his head cocked to one side, he reached out with a paw as if to tap something.

I called to him. “Star, come here, boy.” No response. I clucked my tongue and called for him again. This time he looked up and noticed us. He came trotting toward us.

Dad knelt to the ground and made the clucking noise. Star trotted up to him. My Dad reached down to him, picked him up, held him close so their noses were only a couple of inches apart and looked him in the eye.

“What are you doing, Dad?” I asked.

“Letting him know who’s boss. When he breaks eye contact with me, that means he’s knows I’m the top dog around here.”

Dad’s idea back fired on him. Star looked him in the eye for a few seconds, then leaned forward, opened his mouth and lightly bit my Dad on the noise. Not hard enough to break the skin or cause any pain, he just laid his teeth on my Dad’s noise.

Elizabeth, Dad and I were still. I didn’t know what to do, but I figured my Dad would not be happy about this.

Then he laughed, he shook his head and laughed. “Well, you’re one confident little bastard, aren’t you boy?” He put Star back on the ground and started asking me questions.

“Hmm, he seems all right, a little thin, probably the runt of the litter. Probably would have starved if you hadn’t fed him. What did you feed him?”

I told Dad about the last two days, of buying the dog food, of staying still enough to get Star to trust me, of getting him water. I told him every thing.

Dad stood up and watched Elizabeth and Star playing. “Keep an eye on him. He’s a little young yet for the vet, but once you get him fattened up we’ll take him in for his shots. He’s your responsibility, Drew, you get to take care of him.”

I was walking on cloud nine. Star was mine.

After dinner my Dad helped me set up a place for Star to sleep. We decided to let him sleep in the washroom, just off the kitchen, not quite in the house, but not outside. We took a cardboard box and cut away the front of it so Star could walk into it easily. We took a couple of old towels and laid them on the bottom of the box to give him a soft place to sleep. Finally, my Dad took an old clock he had in the garage, wound it up tight and wrapped an old blanket around it. He held it to my ear and I could hear the clock ticking softly. “It will help him sleep; it will remind of his first few nights in the world, when he would fall asleep listening to his Mom’s heart beat.”

Around 9:00, Dad and I went into the backyard. As soon as we closed the back door, Star heard us and came running toward us in that clumsy, clunky way pups run before they get full control of their bodies. As he ran to us, my Dad said “Play with him hard, make him run. You want to tire him out so he’ll sleep well tonight.” We played for a good fifteen minutes. We walked him into the washroom. My Dad leaned against the washing machine while I sat down on the floor petting Star. He was worn out and it was only a few minutes before he started yawning. “Help him into his bed, Drew, show him that’s where he is to sleep.” I did and as he squirmed around I kept petting him and in a few minutes, he found just the right spot, laying up close to the blanket wrapped clock, yawned one last time and closed his eyes.

The three of us stayed there for another few minutes, each of us in our own way enjoying the moment. “He’s asleep, son. Leave him be for now, he’ll have plenty of energy in the morning. You better get to bed yourself, or you won’t be ready to handle him.”

The next week was a wonderful blur for all of us. Every morning I woke up, wolfed my breakfast down and led Star into the backyard. For what seemed like the first time in her life, Elizabeth quit being a picky eater. Mom wouldn’t let her join Star and me until she had eaten her food. After a morning of complaining, Elizabeth figured out the easy way and quickly ate her meal so she could play with Star.

Every morning, every afternoon and every evening Star played with Elizabeth and me. We kept him going hard, playing, running, eating, just being a pup and every night he slept hard, worn out, exhausted, safe and loved. God, that was a great August.

That is until Bad Friday, some two weeks after Star ran into our back yard. That morning Star took a little longer to wake up than normal and he was sluggish all morning. I figured he was just tired and wasn’t worried about it, but even after a good morning nap, things didn’t get better. All he wanted to do was sleep and I noticed he seemed to be crying. There were little mucus like tears around the edge of his eyes. Elizabeth wanted him to play, but he clearly didn’t want to. He was getting a little cranky and he nipped at me hard once. I convinced Elizabeth that Star needed a little rest and that we ought to see if there was anything good on TV. After I got her interested in the Admiral Foghorn kids show on KOSA I went back outside to check on Star.

Nothing changed much that afternoon and the day wore into evening. We got ready for dinner, Dad came home and we ate quietly. I asked Dad if he would come outside and take a look at Star.

Just as before, Star was sluggish. We walked into the backyard and he didn’t come to us so we ended up walking towards him. We both sat on the ground. I petted Star while my Dad looked him over. I began to cry a little bit, I’m not sure why, maybe because I didn’t know what was going on, maybe because I was afraid of what was going on.

“Drew, looks like Star is a little under the weather, but you’ve done a good job of fattening him up so I’ll take him to the vet tomorrow, get him his shots and have the vet look him over. For now, why don’t you carry him inside and put him in his box, make sure he’s comfortable so he gets a good night’s rest.”

I did as he said and stayed with Star until he drifted off to sleep. It didn’t seem to be a great sleep, he would make little moans every few minutes. I stayed with him for a while longer but finally came back into the house.

Saturday morning I was up early to check on Star. He didn’t look any better, he seemed more sluggish and his eyes were weeping more. While I was checking on him my Dad walked in. “I don’t think he had a good night, Drew. I checked on him a couple of times, he was restless, always stirring and whimpering. I’ll take him to the vet when they open up, right at 9:00 am.”

“Can I go with you, Dad?”

“No, no, I don’t think so. It will likely be crowded there, a lot of dogs, cats and who knows what else. I think it will better if I go alone.”

Breakfast was quieter than dinner the night before. Around 8:50, my Dad picked up his keys, walked into the washroom and brought Star back with him into the living room. He had Star loosely wrapped with the old blanket that had been around his clock. Mom and Dad looked at each other for a moment as if they were trading thoughts and then my Dad said “Time to go.” With that, he and Star left the house.

The morning passed slowly. Saturday mornings were usually good, but this one was different. I watched cartoons, but didn’t see or hear them. All I remember is the clock moving slowly across time. 9:30 passed, then 10:00, then 10:30. At 10:48, I heard our car pull up into the driveway and into the garage. A minute later, I heard the door from the garage to the washroom open, and then I heard my Dad’s footsteps as he walked into the kitchen. I kept my back to him, my eyes on the TV, hoping any second I would hear the clumsy trot of Star. I didn’t. I waited in the silence, then slowly turned around and saw my Dad standing on the threshold between the kitchen and the living room. He held in his hand the blanket Star had been wrapped in.

“Drew, I’m sorry, the little feller was sick, he probably was sick when you found him. You took good care of him, that’s what the vet said. He was probably a runt and was sick from when he was born. That’s probably why you found him on his own. His mother somehow knew he wasn’t strong enough.”

Words, words, words, they meant nothing to me then, and even today, years later they mean little to me. All I knew, all I could see, all I could comprehend was that Star was gone. Dad took him away from me, Dad killed him.

Inside of me, the anger and the sadness mixed together until it was a deadly bile. I had to let something out or I would have burned up inside.

I laid the first brick.

“You killed him! You killed Star! You bastard! I hate you! I hate you!”

Yeah, I was insane. I had just called my Dad a bastard. I was ready to die, I was ready to join Star wherever he was. I didn’t care any more.

Though my Dad was a man of few words, he rarely found himself speechless, he usually could think of the right thing to say in the fewest words possible. This morning he could not. He just stared at me as the anger welled up inside of me and boiled on over to the outside.

“Drew, you stop that! Don’t talk to your father like that! He did what he could. Star was sick, he was too sick to …”

I turned to my Mom and stared at her in a way that she stopped speaking in mid-sentence.

The room was quiet save for the television and Elizabeth who had started to cry. We didn’t yell much in our family and she wasn’t used to so much emotion in the air. None of us were.

I walked towards the backyards door. My Dad reached out and grabbed me by the shoulder.

“Drew, please, I know you loved Star, but there was nothing that could be done for him. He was one sick pup.”

I gave him the same stare that I had used on Mom, but it didn’t work on him in the same way. He kept talking, trying to find the right thing to say. I let him say his piece before I said mine.

“I hate you. You killed him because you didn’t want me to have a dog. I hate you.” I said these words as cold as I could, cold, without emotion.

I walked past him and out into the backyard. I walked around the yard picking up Star’s toys, one by one, and as I did I cried. I gathered them all up and carried them into the alley and tossed them into the dumpster. It was over, Star was gone. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know why.

All that day they left me alone. I stayed in the yard and didn’t talk to any of them. All that day I thought and thought, trying to figure out why this had happened. Why had something as good as Star died? It didn’t make sense to me. It didn’t make sense to me that a God would let something as gentle and tender as Star die. The little pup hardly had a chance in this world and then his life was over. It wasn’t right, and I couldn’t believe in a God who ruled the world in that way.

The day passed and the night fell. In the darkness I made my pact. I cursed God, I cursed my Dad. I would not believe in anything so cruel, in anyone who would let a little pup like Star die without first living a life. That was it, God was lost to me, I was lost to God. I no longer believed. I screamed my curse to the night, not to God, because there was no God, at least no longer in my world. I screamed into the night my hatred for the God and for the Man who had taken Star from me. No more, no more would I waste my time on them. I would do what I had to do to live in this house, but that would be all. I was one arrogant bastard.

Finally, when my voice was near gone and I was exhausted I turned away from the night and walked towards our back door. That’s when I saw the glow, the glow of a cigarette behind the living room window and the silhouette of my father watching me curse him and God.

I walked into the house, not saying a word to anyone, right past them all, back to my room. I closed the door, turned out the light, fell into bed, and waited for sleep to end this horrible day. As I waited to fall asleep in the dark I heard a voice whisper in my ear "Death is not the worst thing." I jumped out of bed, turned the light on and looked around. There was no one in the room save for me. I checked my closet, no one there. I fearfully looked under my bed, nothing there. I walked back to my door when I heard the voice again say "Death is not the worst thing." I turned out the light, walked slowly back to my bed and lay back down. As I closed my eyes I heard the voice for a third time say "Death is not the worst thing." I could hear the television in the living room and I could hear my Mom and Dad whispering. I could hear the night sounds and the wind and that voice. I wrapped my pillow around my head hoping to drown out all the noises, all the voices. It didn't work and I decided I needed noise I could control to drown out the noise I couldn't control. I thought about it and figured the best thing would be to listen to the radio. On my desk I had a transistor radio, an old one of my Dad's. I turned on the light, unplugged the radio, moved it onto my bedside table, plugged it back in, turned on the radio and tuned in one of the local AM radio stations, KOZA. I turned the volume down a little, so no one outside my room could hear it, turned off the light and lay back down. That was better, the AM station, "playing all of the hits," drowned out the rest of the noises and I could finally relax. Sometime that night I fell asleep.

The next morning I slept late. By the time, I had come out of my room, Elizabeth and my Mom had left for church. My Dad was working in the garage. All that day, no one mentioned anything about the day before. It was like it hadn’t happened, like none of it had happened. I walked through the house, the washroom and the backyard. Every last little bit of evidence that Star had existed was gone.

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Next up: in Episode 4 of The Cold Days of Summer the Remington family experience a Sunday morning coming down and Drew learns two important lessons.